Just a Number(112)
“You will sign the papers,” Owen tells her. “You got caught cheating, rendering the pre-nup void. You have no one to blame but yourself. If you don’t sign the papers, I’ll take you to court.”
“Take me to court then. I’m sure they’d love to hear about that little slut you’re banging.”
Again, I consider stepping out, but this time, I’m prepared to punch her and ruin that nose job she just had a few months ago. Owen must sense this, because he rolls his chair a fraction of an inch, effectively pinning me in place like a caged animal.
“I didn’t start seeing anyone until after I told you everything was over,” Owen confesses. “Sign the papers, Gretchen.”
“Not until you renegotiate the terms.”
“Sign. The. Papers.”
The desk creaks above me as I suspect Gretchen is leaning on it. “No.”
“Then I’ll see you in court.” There’s a pause. “Laura, please see my ex-wife out and continue to hold all my calls.”
“Yes, of course, Mr. Cavanaugh.”
“This isn’t over, Owen.”
The door closes a second later and Owen slides his chair out of the way, extending a hand to help me out from under his desk.
“Well that was clo—” His lips are on mine, and his hand tangles in my hair before I even know what’s happening. His cock is still free of his pants and hardening fast against my belly. The kiss is so fierce and passionate, it takes my breath away as I lean back against his desk, using it to balance me as I lift my right leg and hook it around his hip. Feeling his erection press against my lace panties, I shamelessly rub myself against him, whimpering into his mouth when one of his hands comes down and grips my ass hard.
I wrap my hand around his tie, pulling him close as my tongue slides between his lips and caresses his. He kisses me hungrily, an edge of anger and tension behind it. I’ve been on the receiving end of a kiss like this before, and I had pushed him to use his emotions after an argument with Gretchen in bed. I loved it then, and I’m loving it now.
“Owe—” He doesn’t even let me finish moaning his name as his hips continue to pulse between my thighs, pulling back and roughly turning me around until my back is to him. Papers fly off the desk, and the ones that don’t, get crumpled beneath my palms as I hold myself up. I hear him fumble with his pants before his hands are at my hips and roughly tugging my underwear down my thighs. They fall to my knees where they stop in a tangled mess, and Owen grips both of my hips and drives into me.
Reaching forward and gripping the front edge of his desk, I cry out at the unexpected urgency behind his actions, and it encourages him to pull out and repeat it. “Yes,” I hiss when he repeats it a third time. My moans start to escalate as his thrusts speed up, and I feel my orgasm building like a storm deep in my belly. I must be getting louder with each pounding he gives me, because his hand is suddenly over my mouth, muffling my cries as I come. His hip movements are strong and fueled by purpose, and he leans over my body, pressing his forehead between my shoulder blades and biting the skin on my back as he releases inside me.
Breathless and sweating, we stay in this position for a while, my arms having given out mere seconds after my orgasm. His heart beats heavily against my back, and he places a gentle kiss to the tender spot he’d just marked.
Once my knees stop shaking, Owen withdraws from my body and tucks himself away while I adjust my panties and pull my jacket back on. He looks a little more relaxed now, which is half the reason I came here today, so I smile at him as I fasten my buttons.
“I apologize for that,” he says sincerely.
“Uh, you have nothing to apologize for,” I assure him, stepping forward and placing my hands on either side of his neck. “That was incredible. The way you just took me… God, it was downright wild and primal. I loved it. Every second of it.”
My response seems to appease him. “Well, I still apologize for the interruption. She’s persistent.”
I shrug. “Not usually an undesirable trait,” I tell him before adding, “unless that persistence is driven by desperation. But I’m not worried about her. In fact, I say we tell her. Maybe that’ll make her see she doesn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell at getting you back.”
“You think you’re ready for that?” he asks.
I nod. “Why not? We’ve told everyone else. It’s time she found out that you’ve moved on and with someone who’s tired of being that faceless girl from the ball.”
Owen cradles my face in his hands and kisses me softly. “I love you, Amelia Michaels.”